


…are in a car accident

by Signe_chan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Car Accident, M/M, and it all works out, but the fact that it was bad is mentioned, like no specifics, nobody dies though, tumblr prompt fic, vague mention of life threatening injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine your OTP…are in a car accident</p>
            </blockquote>





	…are in a car accident

He can’t remember the accident, not really. The best he can come up with are a series of blurred impressions. Pain and lights and someone’s calming voice, probably one of the ambulance guys. He doesn’t even remember being in the car, really. Or why the hell he got into it in the first place. 

The first distinct memory, the first one from ‘after’ anyway, is of someone holding his hand. He isn’t there enough yet to open his eyes. To realise just who is holding his hand and freak out. But he’s there enough to realise that someone is with him and to appreciate it. 

Things after that are a bit more coherent. They have him on the good drugs so not by much but…

People come and go. There’s a kind nurse with sad eyes. There’s someone he thinks is maybe a doctor. There are his friends. It seems like there’s a different combination of them every time he opens his eyes so it takes him a while to spot the constant. 

Enjolras. 

Enjolras, looking stern, looking like he disapproves of all this, but standing there in the background every time Grantaire looks for him. 

It’s the weirdest thing, and Grantaire would spend more time worrying about it but he honestly has bigger things to worry about. They take away the good drugs but there are more operations and there’s physiotherapy and an awkward conversation with a police officer about why it’s a bad idea to get into a car with someone who’s drunk (like he isn’t already his own object lesson). 

But finally they sign papers. Finally he can go home to flatmates fussing over him and more physio appointments and people dropping in every hour of every day to see how he is and academic meetings to work out what they’re going to do with him and one particularly awkward phone call home (“I thought you should know” “We’d rather not”). 

And through it all, somehow, Enjolras. Enjolras offering to by R’s driver, which was good as he was a little nervous and there was noone safer in the car than Enjolras. Enjolras turning up with nutritious soup and talking academic options and ever holding his fucking hand while he cried about his parents. 

It turned out that being in a car crash was the most traumatic and confusing and wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. 

Slowly, in that creeping way, life went back to normal. 

Only it didn’t, because Enjolras was still there and some days Grantaire was almost too afraid to breath because it might make Enjolras realise it was okay to leave now. 

Of course, Grantaire knew it had to end. He’d be damned, though, if he was the one who pointed that out. 

In retrospect, he was an idiot. In his defence, he had been through a trauma, but it still shouldn’t have completely thrown him when Enjolras turned around after Grantaire had thrashed him in Mario Kart (since that was a thing they did now) and kissed him. 

Like that was normal. Like that was a thing they did. 

And, idiot that he was, he couldn't leave it alone. Couldn’t even enjoy it when his mind was racing, so he pulled back. 

“What was that?” 

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras said, blushing right up to his ears. “I thought...I must have been reading things wrong. I thought you wanted that.” 

“Oh, I do,” Grantaire said, quickly. “But you don’t. Or you never have before. I just..I’m a little bit lost here…” 

Enjolras looked at him sharply. “Do you seriously still believe, even now, that I have no particular feelings for you. After I’ve been with you every step on this path? Seriously?” 

“I just…” 

“Do you even know I was first to the hospital? That I stayed with you right at the start, when they didn’t know if you were going to live or die? That I held your hand and all I could think was that I’d never really given you a chance at all and how unfair that was.” 

“That was you?” Grantaire said, the memory of that hand holding his slipping to the front of his mind. 

“And I’ve been with you ever since, and I’ve given you a chance. And you’re smart, funny, caring. You’re worth having in my life.” 

“I’m a fuck up.” 

“Like most humans, you occasionally make bad choices. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 

“Oh. Can we, maybe, go back to the bit where you kissed me.” 

“Gladly.” So they did. 

Grantaire was sure it made him sound pretty weird, but after he always said that being in a car accident was the best thing that had ever happened to him.


End file.
